It Begins... Again: Prologue and Chapter One
by Crow
Summary: Enter Cleech and Raye... and the beginning of my own take on the Mighty Ducks series.


Disclaimer: Mighty Ducks and all its related logos and characters belong to Disney, NOT me, and are used without permission or payment on my part. Cleech, Raye, and any character you don't recognize from the series belong to and were created by me, and may NOT be used without my specific permission. Sorry. 

##  It Begins...Again

###  Prologue

**Puckworld...**

Callie McDrake winced against the sudden bright light flooding into her tiny shelter. Pucklauncher already in hand, she peered at her visitor. Her eyesight wasn't so good these days. Widespread disease that often accompanies war had all but ruined one eye, and made the other highly sensitive to light. Spending most of her time in the dark didn't do much to contribute to it either, but in these harsh times, daylight was to be avoided at cost of life. Still, though blurry, the lithe silouetted form was unmistakable. 

"Raye. Don't you believe in knocking?" 

"On what?" The younger woman asked. Point made and dropped. 

"Major McMallard sent for you half an hour ago," Raye continued, her voice characteristically cool. Callie wondered, not for the first time, how old she _really_ was. 

"All right. I'm coming," Callie replied, pushing herself up with a creak of stiff bones. She just wasn't as young as she used to be. 

The two women made their way through the reckage of the former capital. Though Draganus had disappeared over a year ago, along with the first strike team and, rumor had it, the legendary mask of Drake Ducaine, the chaos had continued. Old grudges and traitorous acts had led to a muddle of civil war and feuding of the surviving upper classes, vying for control. 

And there were still the droids to be dealt with. Draganus had left behind many of his battle machines, which had gone literally berserk at the loss of a central control. There were rumors of a rogue saurian behind the droids' bloody attacks, but these were unfounded and generally rejected. 

But it was for these reasons that the populice of ducks had to stick to the shadows and shelters. 

The two women finally arrived at a beat-up-looking old transport that lay on its side against what used to be an old prison facility. Raye nimbly leapt on top of the vehicle and rapped on the door. A few minutes later, the door lurched upward and open and a male duck poked his head out. 

"I.D.?" 

"Raye, tech ops and special missions agent. Callie McDrake, Strike Commando." 

"Entrance permitted," the guard grunted in approval. Raye lowered herself into the transport, followed by Callie. As soon as all three ducks were inside the front portion of the vehicle, the guard ordered them to stand back against the wall. he then opened a hidden panel under the steering wheel and flipped a switch. The two female ducks found themselves shooting down and elevator tube, formerly unrecognized as such. Neither were surprised by this, however. Raye had helped design it six months ago. 

The transport stopped at the intended destination, some hundred meters underground. 

A gray-haired man greeted them. 

"Major McMallard," Callie commented, "I'd thought you would be waiting in your headquarters." 

"I _was_, Ms. McDrake, but I had to retrieve some files from another section." 

"Pardon my asking, sir, but isn't that Donald's job?" 

"It _was_. Donald died last night." 

"Oh God. I hadn't heard. What happened?" 

"That depends on who you ask," the Major responded bitterly. 

Raye explained: "Donald had the Fever. He was delirious and was raging about last night in the open. We couldn't get to him before the droid did. It...tore him apart, but he was already too far gone by then....." 

"Shit," Was all Callie could say. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the three as they walked down the corridors to McMallard's briefing room. Donald had been like a son to the Major. Rumor had it the the younger duck had been intended as the Major's daughter's husband. But then, that was only rumor. 

The briefing room was already occupied, surprisingly. Callie recognized the some of the other four ducks as top secret military agents. What in the name of Ducaine's candy-ass--? 

"I'm sure you'd like to know why I called you here," the Major began, with his usual pomp when displaying his power. The other agents seemed a little less than impressed. Callie tried not to stare. These were some of the most highly trained, not to mention deadly, ducks on the planet. What was going on? 

"Tha' would be bloody helpful, major," said a rough-looking agent with a strong Eastside accent. He dressed in an open safari outfit and carried a whip (!?) at his side. The male duck sported a hat and bandana and a long, crooked scar up the side of his beak. He also had the air of a real wise-ass. 

"Easy on the sarcasm, Cleech," a second agent said, his voice smooth as a knife's blade. This one dressed totally in black, like Raye, and had slicked back black hair and cold blue eyes. He was dead gorgeous. 

"Thank you, Agent Thornefeather. I have assembled you all here because you're the best of the very best, and the mission I'm requiring you for calls for your kind of expertise." 

"Get to the bleedin' point," Cleech growled. The Major glared at him but continued. 

"We've found the energy source for the droids. It's in a hidden location just a mile east of Twin Beaks. Resources tell us that a teleprtation unit was spotted there as well. We want you six to infiltrate the facility, deactivate the power source, and then teleport yourselves to Draganus' current location and take him down." 

That last put everyone present in shock. 

"That's suicide! I didn't join this team just to jump into the fire," A buff young duck said. He had the clean-cut look of a marine. Must be one of the tops, Callie thought. 

"I understand your reserves, Captain Pato, but-" 

"How do you even know that teleportation unit will send us to Draganus? _We_ don't know where he is...And the facility is bound to be cloaked." the last agent, a slim male in his prime, made the point of saying. 

"That's where Raye comes in," the major said, a grin present on his visage. All agents turned to the young female. Raye raised an eyebrow. 

"You must be joking," She said finally. 

"I never joke, my dear girl." 

"I hate to disappoint you, _sir_, but my...._talents_ have never been tested in that sort of situation. I wouldn't suggest-" 

"Wait," Cleech broke in, "What 'talents' are yer speakin' abo't? Tech stuff or what?" 

"Not exactly," McMallard stated. "Raye is a brilliant young mind in that field as well, but she is also a talented practioner of, hmm, other kinds of fields." 

Raye winced as the others stared at her suspiciously. 

"God, sir, she's a kid," Callie finally said, unable to stand it any longer. 

"It's a shame, Ms. McDrake, to be sending our children into battle, but this _is_ war. Raye, I have every confidence in you. In all of you. Let's go over the plans, shall we?" 

*

Callie glanced over at Raye who was staring out the window of the aircraft. It was one of the last three military aircraft still intact, installed with a weak but functioning cloaking device, also designed by Raye, though built by another section. 

Raye had a tense look on her face, matching the permanently stormy weather outside. The younger woman was usually strictly devoid of emotion. Callie worried. 

Leaning over, she asked Raye quietly "Are you all right?" 

"What do _you_ think, Cal?" She replied coldly. Callie shut up and leaned back, wondering again why _she_ herself had been assigned to this mission. She had always led a good Strike team, but this was a highly sensitive operation. Cleech leaned across from his seat. 

"So," he said, far too casually for Callie's opinion, "What do you do?" 

"I'm a Strike Commando. I lead raids and that shit. Why? What do you do?" 

He grinned, a menacing look on his face. "I hunt people." 

A brief stare down insued between the two. Callie lost. 

"What abo't you, love? You know some kinda secret t' seeing through cloaks or what?" Cleech asked of Raye. He was greeted with a look that actually made him regret asking, though he showed no sign of it. 

"Well?" 

"What I do is no secret. It just isn't high in public opinion." 

"Well, join the ruddy club, luv. I'm a bounty hunter, after all." 

"Cleech! Keep it in your pants or you go back without it," Thornefeather snarled. He had taken an unchallenged form of leadership over the team, having a sort of unquestioned superiourity. And no one else really wanted the task. Callie now knew all their specific talents: 

Ian Thornefeather was a super-agent long before the invasion. The kind of devilishly handsome top secret mission operator that they loved to write movies about, back when movies still existed. 

Cleech (his full name unknown, if Cleech was actually any part of his true birth name), obviously, was a bounty hunter. Callie wondered how they'd managed to get one of _his_ kind into this kind of work, considering their reputation, but he _had_ to be good at what he did for McMallard to even consider it. Cleech's rugged good looks made his personality _almost_ bearable. And he was a dead-shot with that whip, which had an electrical surge in it that could stun or kill, depending on the setting and his mood. 

Captain William Pato was literally the "best of the best". The top Marine in all of Puckworld. His battle record was unsurpassed in military files predating, well, a very long time ago! He also had an unshakable By-The-Book attitude that Callie just _knew_ was going to start annoying her very soon. 

And last, but not least, was Hal Webster. He was trained in ways of technology, particularly destroying it, that even Raye didn't know about. And that was saying a lot. How he was in battle, however, was to be seen, since he hardly looked like a fighter. Callie worried. 

"Raye, we're coming up on the coords," Pato announced. He sounded like a young McMallard. 

Raye unbuckled and stepped up to the cockpit. She glared in the direction ahead for a moment. 

"I see it," she said. "Lemme fly." 

"Are you licenced?" Pato asked. Raye narrowed her eyes and he held up a hand in defense. 

"Captain..." Thornefeather said sternly. 

"If we crash it isn't _my_ fault." He did, however, relinquish his seat and Raye took over. 

The craft turned slightly, veering toward the right. Suddenly, they passed through the barrier. The other agents gasped. 

"We gotta go...through _that_?" Said Hal. The fortress was huge. Bigger, Callie realized, than the original structure that Draganus had used as his citadel, according to their specs. It was just as ugly, however, and had an eerily alive look to its design. Red metal tendrils wrapped around needle spires, frozen in a lifeless mockery that resembled pain. 

The others looked on in horrid fascination, wondering how they had been talked into this, and how they were going to penetrate what looked to be an impregnable stronghold. Raye obviously had something different on her mind. 

"They must use the spires to gather energy from the lightning in this area. The high electrical currents coming from Twin Beaks have enough charge to them to power hundreds of droids for weeks. Ingenious." 

"It's ugly," Callie said, her loathing evident to all. 

"Kinda phallic in shape too, but you didn't hear that from me," Raye said, dead-pan serious. She recieved some shocked looks from the other agents, particularly Hal. Cleech laughed. 

*

"Okay, we're clear," Pato said, waving the others to continue forward. The fortress was an impossible maze of twists and turns. Hal, possessed of an apparent photographic memory, led the way through. 

"The main power generator should be through that door," he said, as they peered around the next corner. There was a huge door there, heavily sealed with a saurian symbol on it. 

"Good work, Hal. Lemme verify that with headquarters," Thornefeather said, typing a code on his wrist comm. They'd had to use manual communicaters for this mission. No telling what the droids could pick up on. 

As they moved forward in twos, Cleech, having been teamed with Callie by default, leaned close to her ear. 

"Somethin' ain't right, luv." 

"What do you mean?" She asked, irritated. 

"There should be some kinda guard, don't y' think? Droids aren't programmed t' be irresponsible y'know." 

He was right. They hadn't seen any sign of the saurian machines anywhere. Callie had thought to count it as a stroke of luck, but now... 

"Methinks there's a traitor among us, m'lady," he whispered, for only her to hear. 

"How do you know it isn't me?" Callie asked, knowing he wouldn't reveal these to someone he didn't think he could trust. 

"I c'n see your type a mile away, and it isn't the sneaky type. No it's one o' them," he said, nodding at the others ahead of them. "How well do you trust th' girl?" He asked of her. 

"With my life," she said in a tone that warned against questioning. 

"Do y'? Then it leaves Pretty Boy, th' soldier, and th' bomber." 

"You think Hal's capable of it?" Callie wanted to know, squinting at the young scientist as he tried to figure out the door code. 

"Not really, but y' can never be to cert'in. Something else bothers me: your eyes. You can't see too well, can you?" 

"What?" 

"The way you keep avoidin' the lights an' squintin' an' all. It doesnae affect your aim, does it?" 

"Do you think I'd be on this team if I couldn't aim a gun, Cleech?" Callie growled. He'd touched a sensitive spot and he knew it. 

However she was too disturbed to stay angry long. The idea that one of their own could turn on them at any minute mad eher more than a little anxious. Dammit all! She glanced at Raye, wondering if they'd actually survive this. 

"Ah! Got it!" Hal exclaimed. The door hissed open. 

There was an overwhelming silence behind the hum of the huge power generator. Callie looked to see if the others noticed, but they seemed obliviously. 

"Well," Thornefeather said quietly, a satisfied tone in his voice. "This should be easier than I'd expected. Hal, get started on the bombs. Pato, stay with him. Raye, you and Cleech start looking for those teleporters. You know what they look like? Good. They should be located somewhere in the left wing there, according to specs. Callie, you and me will be keeping lookout." 

"Looks like it's me an' you, kid," Cleech smirked as he followed the lithe young duck towards the specified wing. There were numerous containment units there, all sealed and coded. 

"Cripes. Which one is it?" Cleech groaned. Raye studied the units curiously. Finally she pointed at one that looked a bit different from the rest. 

"This isn't a containment unit. It's a teleporter." 

"Wha-? But that's too big....isn't it? I mean, I was expecting individual wrist-teleporters....' 

"So was I. Apparently, we were wrong. But it there's one this big, that means this place isn't intended soley for storage...." 

"Wait a minute there, lass. Are you tellin' me what I _think_ yer tellin' me?" 

"There's something alive here," Raye said tonelessly. 

"Mother of Ducks...." Cleech swore, chills threatening to creep up his back. 

"Don't say anything yet," Raye said, glancing back at the others. Cleech realized she'd come to the same conclusion as he. There was a turncoat among them, and there was no telling that one would strike. the younger duck began to manipulate the wires under the control panel. 

"Thornefeather, I've got some bad news," Callie said, meanwhile. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I think we have a traitor. I'm not sure who. We may be walking into a trap here." 

"Are you sure? That's a terrible accusation against top military agents you know." 

"I know," Callie said, glancing around nervously. 

"I'll keep an eye out for trouble," Thornefeather assured her. She smiled, grateful that he was taking her seriously. 

"Almost set," Hal told his much larger partner. Pato grunted, glancing over at Cleech. 

"That bounty hunter makes me nervous," he stated, disgust in his voice. "How did _he_ get called on this mission?" 

"You're asking _me_? I'm more worried about the girl anyway. What _is_ she supposed to be? Her file said she was a Special Missions Agent." (S.M.A.? Heheheh....sorry.)"But she looks kinda young. I don't think she's out of her teens even." 

Pato grunted again, obviously a man of few words. Hal set the last lock code on the bombs. 

"That should do it," he said. 

"Yes, that does at that," hissed a definitely _non_duck voice. Startled, the two swerved around to see a large, darkly scaled saurian standing in the center of the room, having materialized out of thin air, along with several score of hunter droids. 

"Oh shit!" Callie snarled, seeing them at the same time. She whipped out her pucklauncher and aimed at the saurian, only to feel cold, hard metal pressed to her temple. She regretfully realised her mistake. 

"You were right, Captain McDrake. There _is_ a traitor among us," Thornefeather said cooly. 

"Uh oh," Cleech said, seeing what was going on. 

"It's open," Raye said quietly, also recognizing the situation. "We got problems." 

"Thank you, Thornefeather," the saurian was saying. "Would you please call the rest of your 'team' out here where I can see them?" 

"Gladly." Thornefeather turned to the direction of Cleech and Raye. "Raye! I have your friend at gunpoint here. If you and that bounty hunter don't show yourselves in two seconds, her brains'll be decorating the walls." 

"Shit," Cleech swore. 

Raye silently stepped into the open, hands in the air. Cleech hesitated, his sense of self-preservation putting up a good fight with his honor, which he _did_ have. 

_//I know you can hear me, Cleech. Just follow suit. I know what I'm doing.//_

Cleech restrained gasping. Raye's voice had been so clear, it could have been spoken aloud yet he knew it hadn't. This was getting deep. Was she some sort of telepath? He didn't have time to really question, because some of the droids had joined them as a form of 'escort'. 

He glanced at Raye. She seemed to be struggling with something internally. 

"Agent Thornefeather," she said in a voice far too calm for the occation, "You are a disgrace to your species." 

He shrugged. "Just remember who's being held at the wrong end of a pucklauncher here kiddo." 

The saurian was staring at Raye intensely, however. 

"Wait, aren't you-" 

He didn't get any farther because the droids surrounding Cleech and Raye suddenly turned and opened fire on their master. The saurian let out a screech, barely avoiding being incinerated. Thornefeather let out a string of explicits, and Callie took the moment to jab an elbow into him. While he bent over in agony, she swung around and landed a fist into his upper back. Following suit, Pato opened fire on the hunter droids, while Hal displayed his fighting ability, bringing a surprisingly strong martial arts kick into the nearest droid. The machine fell over and short-circuited. 

"Heh. I'll never make fun of the bombing squad again," Pato said with a grin. "And to think I had the impression they kept you guys busy equations up there in Intelligence." 

"Et tu, Brutes," Hal grinned back. "Welcome to war!" 

Meanwhile, Cleech was using his whip without mercy on the robot. And Raye, well, he wasn't sure _what_ she was up to, fiddling around with the teleporter, a grim look on her face. 

Thornefeather was laying on the ground, motionless. Callie hurried over as best she could to where Cleech was doing his best to keep them both safe. Shooting wildly, she took out five more droids. 

"Some crowd, eh?" Cleech yelled over the blasts. "You think they like our performance?" 

Callie smirked. "By the turnout, I think we're up for an encore." 

"Uh? Shit!" 

Her minor joke had been correctly predicted. More droids were pouring in. There were too many for them to ever hope to beat. 

A billowing of smoke and a hissing sound foresaw worse. The saurian had teleported across the room via wristport and was now confronting Raye. 

"I thought your kind were demolished during the initial invasion, child," he hissed. 

"They were," she said coldly, no emotion evident on her face. 

"A pity. We could have been allies. I know why you've come, of course...." 

Callie opened fire on the saurian. Looking vaguely irritated, he raised a clawed hand toward her. An energy beam issued forth, burning a hole in Callie's belly. She fell. 

Raye angryly lashed out with a previously hidden ducksaber. The saurian easily avoided it. 

"Pathetic. I would expect one such as you to use your naturally-born talents..." 

"You keep thinking that," Raye replied, continuing forward till she was standing directly in front of the teleporter. The droids had taken out Pato and Hal. Cleech was barely holding his own. And Callie....she was still breathing, but the blood pooling around her was almost black. That meant the shot had taken out her liver. She wouldn't make it. However, the older woman wasn't going down without a fight. She aimed her launcher one last time. 

"This is for Duke," she whispered the name of the man she'd lost. She pulled the trigger and breathed her last breath. 

The shot was a little off. Her damaged eyesight had won in the end. It missed the saurian's cranium, instead hitting him in the shoulder. And seriously pissing him off. 

"Damn you!" he cursed the dead woman, wishing she'd lived a few moments more for him to take his revenge. Cleech glanced at the bomb. Only a few seconds left. 

"Get outta here, Kid!" he shouted. _Someone_ had to survive. 

"I will. But _you're_ coming with me," she replied calmly, grabbing the scruff of his color and pulling him close. The saurian just grinned, no longer fighting. 

"If you actually manage to find your way out of dimentional Limbo _and_ find the Raptor, tell Wraith that Spectre, his son, sends his regards." Spectre raised his hand and shot another energy beam, this one weaker, however. Callie's bad aim had proven useful after all, the injured arm only able to manage pushing the two ducks through the teleporter into dimetional Limbo. He laughed gleefully, and perhaps a tad bitterly, but his victory was shortlived as he realised there was still the bomb to deal with. He reached for his wristport, only to discover it missing. 

And time was up. 

The explosion shoot the earth for miles around. A cheer could be heard answering it for nearly as far.....   


###  Chapter One

Limbo; in a word, hell. A place in-between places. 

_But it's not a place at all,_ Cleech thought, or at least he _thought_ he did. Things worked funny here. It was all he could do to hang on to Raye's tiny waist in the tumult of bright colors. And sometimes he forgot why he was doing so. Time didn't work right, in this place that really wasn't. Had he been here an hour, or a decade? And why did he even care? 

He suddenly became more aware of the young body he grasped. Raye was a pretty girl. Like the colors. Pretty.... 

He suddenly felt solid ground beneath his feet. When he looked down, all he could see was the swirling colors. It was a disturbing image, and he forced himself to look away. At least his mind had been returned to him. He looked at the younger duck before him, and realised he was still holding her, tightly pressed to his body. Embarrassed, he let her go. Raye didn't seem to notice, look of deep concentration on her face. Then it all came back to him. The mental communication he'd heard back there.... 

"What are you?" he asked. She didn't respond, however, too wrapped up in...whatever she was doing. 

"There," she murmured, opening her eyes. "That should hold for a while. Follow me. I don't know where Draganus is, but I know how to find out." 

"Waitaminute! Y'aren't thinkin' of still goin' after him! The team is dead. And we don't know what's out there!" 

"Afraid, Cleech? You may return to Puckworld on your own then, if you aren't coming with me. _All_ on your own." 

Cleech gulped and followed her. After what seemed like a long time of silence and color, he began to hear them-- the voices. They were calling him, pleading for help. 

"Don't listen to them. It'll only mean your own death," Raye warned him. 

"What are they?" he asked carefully, not entirely sure he wanted to know. 

"Others, trapped here. Ah..." She reached out into the colorful void: it seemed surprisingly dense. Her hand disappeared then returned, dragging a grown male duck with it. He looked horrible, his eyes wide open, clad only in the rags of what looked like a uniform at one time. He looked vaguely familiar too.... 

"Isn't that...." Cleech began, searching for a name. The newcomer was babbling incoherently, staring off into the colors. 

"Canard. Leader of the original strike team." 

"Oh God....." 

Raye studied him a moment, her hand on his head. She looked disappointed. "He never made it to Draganus' last position, wherever that may be. He's useless," she said. She started to walk away. 

"Wait! You cannae jus' leave him here!" Cleech barked, realising her intent. 

"Then you can carry him, Cleech. I'm having a difficult time enough as it is and he's for sure not going to be able to help himself." 

Cursing under his breath, Cleech helped the broken, younger man to his feet and half-led, half-carried him along after Raye. After only a few more minutes, she stopped again and repeated the same process. This time she pulled out a sexy young female duck. _Her_ Cleech recognised immediately. 

"Lucretia Decoy!" 

The woman looked to be in a similar state as Canard. Cleech didn't think he could take them both... 

Raye was still studying Decoy, her hand on the older woman's head in a similar fashion as before. 

"We have lift-off," Raye said, satisfied. She helped the woman to her feet and forced her, somehow, to stand. 

"Take us to your master," Raye ordered. 

"I have no master," the older female replyed in a hypnotized voice. She was staring in a strange way, as if she wasn't in control at all over her mind. 

"Take us to the last place you were that was solid." Raye said in perfect stride. The woman hesitated a moment, then walked off in a determined, though shaky manner. The other three followed. 

*

Wraith had been dozing when he felt it - a powerful, and painful surge in the Astral Plane. Shaken awake abruptly, he hissed loudly. 

"No! Not yet--!" He stopped and looked around. Siege and Chameleon were staring at him with mixtures of confusion and amusement. Lord Draganus looked annoyed, as well as intruiged. His highest-ranking henchman wasn't prone to spontaneous outbursts. Especially not when the Overlord was in the middle of sketching out his latest plot for replacing the Dylitheum crystals needed to power their ship. 

"Something you feel you need to add, Wraith?" Draganus asked, glaring sternly at the wizard. He noted an odd sort of emotionless look on Wraith's face: the sorcerous saurian was definitely preoccupied by something. However, he only shook his head. 

"Nothing, my liege." 

Draganus felt a surge of resentment: his servant was keeping something from him, and he was to valuable an asset to try to force it from him right now. Chameleon chose that moment to giggle. 

"Heeheeheh....Bad Chinese food, eh Wraith?" 

The object of the shapeshifter's joke curled his lip in irritation but said nothing. Draganus glared at him a moment more, and was about to continue when the Raptor's alarm system went off. 

"_Now_ what?" 

The computer screen was flashing an enormous map of Anaheim, centering on the coordinates of-- 

"A dimentional gateway? What is the meaning of this!?" Draganus snarled, now in a thouroughly bad mood. How dare anyone invade what was soon to be _his_ territory?! 

"Wraith, Chameleon, get to the bottom of this at once! I want an explanation five minutes ago!" 

"Gee, Boss, time-travel wasn't one of the pre-requisites for this job," Chameleon began. The Overlord didn't have the patience. 

"**NOW!**" 

"Yike! On it, Babe." The shapeshifter and the wizard disappeared in a cloud of smoke and a hissing noise. Draganus sighed and turned to Siege. 

"As for _you_, get to work repairing the back-up engines. I'm sick of them breaking down just when we need them." 

"Yes, Lord," the bulky henchman replied, teleporting himself to the engine room. 

*

Five Minutes Ago....**The Pond:**

"Has anybody seen Duke?" Wildwing wanted to know. He hadn't seen the former thief himself all day, and it was beginning to make him nervous. While he hated not trusting his own teammate, Duke _had_ been the greatest thief on Puckworld - and Wildwing knew for a fact that his allowance for the week was spent up. So what Duke was doing, minus cash, in _this_ city was to be questioned. 

Not that he'd actually 'fess up to suspecting him of anything. 

"Yeah, I saw him leave earlier," Nosedive said over a comic titled Witchblade. "He said he was 'going out.'" 

"To do what?" 

"I dunno. Why? You worried?" 

"Er...." 

"C'mon, that ep with Falcone should have cleared up any worries you had, y'know?" 

"I'm not worried, I just haven't seen him in a while and....no, that came out wrong...shit..." 

Nosedive shook a finger at him in mock-sternness. "_lang_uage, sweety. This is supposed to be a kid's show." 

"Screw that, 'Dive. They can go watch that fucked-up big purple dinosaur for all _I_ care. Disney cut us after only one season anyway. What's that you're reading?" 

"A comic." 

Ah, the sad attempts at 'quality time.' 

"Yeah, but what's _this_ one about? You read a new one every time I see you." 

"So?" 

Drake1's alarms sounded before Wildwing could respond. Brotherly connection would have to wait. This was an emergency. 

All the ducks, minus Duke, were staring at Drake1's screen. 

"Looks like a dimentional gateway has opened up," Tanya stated, trying to get a firm read-out. 

"So Draganus rears his ugly head once more," Mallory muttered, a tad bitterly. 

"To the Aerowing," Wildwing ordered. 

A minute later, they were airborne and making quick tracks. There was something disturbing about the coordinates, however. 

"S-uh-ay! Have we, uh, been here before?" Tanya asked as they neared the destination. It was an old warehouse that did indeed deed look familiar. Nosedive already remembered _that_ particular episode, and it wasn't a pleasant memory. 

"Yeah, that's the place where we got lured in by that little ho, Lucretia Decoy. Just before she got sent to dimentional Limbo," Mallory declared, glaring nettles at the youngest member of the team. He gulped and winced. 

"I don't know about this," Wildwing said as the craft pulled for a landing. "It feels like a trap. Keep your guard up, ducks." 

"Yeah, like _that_ goes without saying Bro," Nosedive retorted. His older brother glowered at him, but no words were exchanged. They had a mission to complete. 

The warehouse was almost exactly as it had been left months ago. No humans had bothered cleaning it up: obviously, it bore no significance in their lives. Unfortunately, the collapsed roofing, walls, and paraphenalia provided excellent coverage for those who wanted to hide. 

"Spread out," Wildwing commanded. He grabbed his brother roughly by the arm and dragged him along with. 

After a few minutes, 'Dive decided he needed to put in his input. 

"Don't you think the saurians would have simply showed themselves by now? I mean, they aren't exactly conspicuous...." 

"Well, _some_body's been here recently," Wildwing retorted, gesturing at the ground. Months of neglect had left a thick layer of dust, and footprints, fresh ones, could be seen leading into a sort of covering made by the debris. The two brothers looked at eachother and nodded in unison, drawing their pucklaunchers. 

Wildwing mouthed "on three," as they neared a corner. He silently counted to three, then both ducks moved around, each facing a different direction. Nothing. Even the footprints were gone. 

Nosedive turned to his brother, who still had his back to him. Wildwing shook his head in confusion. The younger of the two opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced by the feel of cold metal pressed to the side of his head. He suddenly found himself locked in a strong grip, unable to move. 

"There's no one here," Wildwing was saying. 

"Oh, I wouldn't say _that_," Nosedive commented, trying to sound unruffled. It didn't come out like that. 'Wing turned, obviously curious, and reacted instantly. 

"Let him go," Wildwing ordered coldly, aiming his pucklauncher just beyond his brother's head. Nosedive gulped, knowing full well his brother was bluffing. He wouldn't dream of shooting that close to his younger sibling....would he? 

"Think not, mate. Just lower yer bloody weapon or yer friend meets his great-greats real soon," said a gruff male voice in Nosedive's ear. Funny, his accent sounded kinda Eastside-ish, except that would be impossible....the Mighty Ducks were the only Puckworlders on Earth. 

At least they _were_. But if this guy was a duck (he wasn't certain yet, he had his back to him, obviously), then _why_ was he holding a gun to his head? They should be allies! Right? Nosedive was getting a headache. 

Suddenly he heard _another_ voice, this one female. 

"Cleech! You imbecile! _They_ aren't the enemy!" 

"They're Northsiders, aren't they? Looks like they have s'me Westside blood in 'em as well. That makes 'em _all_ enemy." The voice in his ear growled. Northside? West? They _were_ ducks! But what was he talking about? There was peace between the 'Sides last 'Dive knew. And the headache was now developing into a full blown migraine... 

"There's no feud here, Cleech. Just let him - oof!" 

The female was cut off by the sound of a foot-meeting-stomach. Cleech, the guy with the gun, let out a rather colorful explicit and turned slightly to see what happened, giving Nosedive a large enough opening to elbow him: hard. The stranger gave a grunt of pain, loosening his grip further. 

"Excuse me," came the voice of Grin, "but I think your aura's are clashing. Perhaps you should--" and here, Cleech's grip completely disappeared, letting 'Dive free to see his attacker-- "_let go!_" Grin finished, holding the new duck in the air by his collar. 

This guy was definitely an Eastsider. His reddish-brown feathers, unkempt hair, and safari outfit were a dead giveaway. But that didn't explain much. 

Nosedive glanced in the direction from which the _second_ voice had come. He saw Mallory standing victoriously over the unconscious body of a young female. She was huddled up, and her hair covered her face, so he couldn't tell much, except that she wore all black and seemed minus a weapon. Wierd. She had a nice body, though. 

"Why did you attack my brother?" Wildwing asked Cleech, who was still dangling a couple of feet in the air. Cleech ignored him, instead glaring at Grin, as if in accusation. 

"You traitor! Yer werkin' _with_ these backstabbers?!" 

"So it would appear," Grin responded coolly. 

"I'll bloody _mutitlate_ y'! Y' no-good--" 

"**_Would_ you _kindly_ pipe down and explain _what_ it is that would cause you to threaten the life of one of your own?!**" Wildwing snarled through clenched teeth. 

Cleech shut his mouth and glared (as best he could in his position) at the team leader. 

"Y' arenae one of _mine_. Not after y' and all yer kind turned traitor on us, started yer petty vies for power and feuding after the Invasion." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wildwing shotback. "We've been here on Earth for over a year. And we aren't part of any feuding. What are you doing here? And how did you get here?" 

"I wish I knew," Cleech muttered grudgingly. "But yer broad there knocked out th' only person who _could_ explain this whole bloody mess to y'." 

"Uh, Wildwing?" Tanya's voice cut in. "You, uh,'d better see this...." 

"Now what?" Wildwing muttered, hurrying over to where Tanya stood. He gasped. 

"C-Canard?" His best friend lay among the rubble, unconscious and looking quite a bit worse for wear, but alive. _Alive!_

"Oh...my.....God...." 

And lying right next to him, the partial cause of this warehouse's bad condition, was... 

"Lucretia Decoy!" Nosedive exclaimed with horror. This was turning out to be a very bad day for the teenager. Right now, he just wanted to go crawl under his bed and whimper till this was all over. His head _really_ hurt. 

"What do we do?" Tanya asked, looking up at the young leader. Wildwing was still staring at his friend. 

"I--I...get them back to the Pond. These two need medical attention, and so does that one over there," he said, nodding at the unconscious woman. "And our 'new friend' has some explaining to do...." 

*

As the Aerowing lifted off, the _other_ two beings in the warehouse stepped out of the shadows. 

"Ugh. Canard's back. Drag' ain't gonna like _this_," Chameleon complained, not looking forward to the report they'd have to make. Wraith didn't respond, and for a long while was silent. 

"So one of _them_ has survived. This is indeed a bad omen. Could the time truely be at hand? For the sake of all, I hope not." Wraith murmered, mostly to himself. 

"Uh?" Chameleon asked. "You freakin' out on me, Bro'? Mebbe you should lay down o' sumptin'," the shapeshifter suggested. Wraith didn't answer him. He simply teleported back to the Raptor. 

"Hey! Ah, no reshpect for the little guy, eh? Sheez! Da t'ings Ah put up wit'!" 

*

Five minutes _after_ lift-off, it occured to Wildwing to scan the new ducks with the Mask. This could be a ploy, after all. He'd been fooled before with the 'Canard' deal. Nope, he wasn't going to take that chance again, make that mistake... 

He scanned Canard, found him to be authentic. Likewise with Decoy and Cleech, who was sulking under the guard of Grin, who seemed to be in an uncharacteristically _bad_ mood. Wildwing made a note to check on that later as he scanned the last duck, who's name he still didn't know. That thought waws instantly wiped from his mind as the Mask went absolutely beserk! Images suddenly went crazy and overlapped eachother. Wildwing cried out in pain and quickly ripped the thing off his face. 

"Whud happened?" Tanya asked, looking up from where she sat, trying to figure out what was wrong with Canard and Decoy. 

"I dunno! The mask just overloaded or something!" Wildwing exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. That was a _very_ unpleasant experience. He looked at the girl again, this time with his own eyes. 

She was actually very attractive, beautiful even, with black hair past her shoulders and dark feathers, the same color as Grin's or Duke's-- 

Oh shit! Duke! There was still no sign of hide nor feather of the former thief. Surely he would have heard the alarm go off on his wristcom? Something must be wrong. 

Too many things were happening at once. Wildwing forced himself to remain calm. Okay, let's go over the details: Canard is alive, and he's _here_, and in what may be a coma. Ditto for Decoy. We've got some crazy Eastsider who wants to kill us because of some feud going on back on Puckworld (and what's _that_ all about?!), and another duck, his companion, whom Mallory knocked out, is the only one of these four who can explain how they got here. To top it all, Duke's missing, and Nosedive is flying the Aerowing! Waitaminute... 

"Uhn...'Dive? Why are _you_ flying?" 

"_Some_body has to!" 

"Oh, right. Mallory, would you go give him a hand? Tanya, how are they?" 

"Er-uh, resting more comfortably than _I_ have in weeks, I'm, uh, sorry to say. I, uh, can't, like, y'know, uh...uh....shoot! Lost my train of thought!" 

"Oy vey," Cleech muttered. Wildwing had to agree with him there. 

"Like, I can't really, uh, really tell much, at this mo- at this mo-.....y'know, _right now._" 

Hmm, now that _that_ painful ordeal was over.... he glanced at the Mask, then hooked it onto his belt. They were almost back at the Pond. He'd figure out what was wrong with it then. The girl groaned. She was coming to. She'd have some explaining to do, that was for certain... 

Continued in Chapter Two! 


End file.
